


How's This For Delicate?

by Ozymanreis



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cutesy, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hacking, M/M, Sherlock Being a Tease, Tears, fake tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 21:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1703117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozymanreis/pseuds/Ozymanreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Have you ever cried?"<br/>"Mycroft assures me that for the first four years of my life, I did little else."</p>
            </blockquote>





	How's This For Delicate?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #26: Tears

It's a quiet, boring Thursday afternoon. One of many Sherlock's had in his life, and certainly not his last. The difference is that he's _fine_ with the stagnate hours. If you were to ask anyone is Sherlock's life how he handles boredom, they'd immediately say _badly_. 

But today is fine. Some would call this impossible, but a very self-satisfied James Moriarty would beg to differ. Then probably disembowel you for discovering his softer side. Nay, that is a side reserved solely for his dearest (possibly "boy") friend (also possibly "enemy"). 

Sherlock sits on the couch, Mycroft's stolen laptop resting on his knees. Moriarty leans against him, arm around the detective's shoulders, as the taller man scans the screen full of code furiously. "Really, let the computer do some of the work," Moriarty whispers seductively, "I know you've got this big, squishy, sexy brain, but this is a tool for your convenience. It only occasionally needs your help filling in the blanks." Sherlock only nods in assent. 

Jim has agreed to teach his dearest pet the finer points of hacking, code-reading, and decryption. Sherlock, in exchange, has promised to allow Jim any information he might "accidentally" come across on the high government official's confidential documents. Provided he could access them. However, with no firewalls strong enough to keep out the criminal mastermind, Sherlock reasoned he'd have the information… sooner or later. _Might as well pick up a useful skill along the way…_

Two cups of tea sit untouched on the coffee table, lukewarm from neglect. 

Yes. It's as simple as it can be. Uncomplicated. Risking the peace of the free world. Mild. Breaking at least a dozen secrecy laws. Calm. Theft of government property. Breathable. 

Of course, Jim has to ruin it, "Have you ever cried?"

"Mycroft assures me that for the first four years of my life, I did little else." Sherlock answers nonchalantly, still concentrating.

"In _recent_ memory, pet."

"Well, when I was on a case —"

"No, no, _no_! I asked if _you_ cried, not one of your clever disguises."

"Ah, well… no."

"I had assumed as much." Jim playfully nips detective's neck, "Pity, I bet you look so deliciously delicate with a few tears." 

Sherlock pauses the program, the stream of words and numbers ceasing momentarily. For a moment, Jim is stunned, "Why — ?" 

Weeping blue eyes meet his own, "Is that all I am to you, _Jim_?" Sherlock's voice is choked with a swell in his throat, "Some cheap entertainment? Do… do my emotions mean so little…?" He buries his face in his hands, pulling away from Jim. 

"Very cute, Sherly." Jim singsonged, "We both know you don't have _real_ emotions like that." 

Pushing Jim away with all his strength, Sherlock leapt to his feet, the laptop making soft contact with the floor, "Then it's true." Sherlock's voice was pure hurt and defeat.  

Jostled, Jim began to worry, "What? You're kidding. We were on a _roll_ with the decryption, and you're giving it up for some _prank_? Adorable, Sherlock, really very committed of you, but this is too far. No distractions, darling."

Tears streaming down his face, Sherlock stalked off to the bedroom, "See yourself out." He spat. 

Moriarty, finally sensing he had done something wrong, got up, placing a hand gently on the distraught detective's shoulder, "Sherlock, I —"

"Oh, please." Sherlock's voice was back to normal, whipping around, knocking away the hand, pinning Jim to the wall, "How was my performance? Did you find it… _delicate_?" He's sporting a wicked grin, Moriarty at a loss for words, "You —"

"Yes, yes, I'm amazing." Sherlock tutted, "I'm surprised you fell for it so quickly. I was prepared to go on like that for the next three days. _At least_."

"I didn't _actually_ believe —"

"Yes, you did." 

"Ugh... you're quite the actor, my pet." Jim deflated, acknowledging defeat, "Ever consider becoming a spy?"

"That would put me too close to brother dear, I'm afraid." 

"Mmm and that face is just too yummy to blend in. You'd be recognized in a heartbeat."

"You really do love to pile on the compliments."

"Got a problem with that?"

"Yes." Sherlock leaned his forehead against the captive Moriarty's, "Yes, I think I do."

"What will you do to stop me?" Jim asked daringly. 

Sherlock smiled, moving in slowly to kiss Jim. The nerves in the air are palpable. A musical score, vibrating to a frequency only they could tune into. 

Immediately as Jim closed his eyes, Sherlock retreated, " _No_ _distractions_ , _darling_." 

Flustered, Moriarty cursed under his breath as they returned to the laptop. 

Yes. A quiet afternoon.


End file.
